


Goldfish

by celestialteapot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialteapot/pseuds/celestialteapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft finds his goldfish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goldfish

Greg reclined against the head board, his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, aware he was grinning like a mad man.

"Well." He said, lowering his eyes to where a gloriously dishevelled Mycroft Holmes was shrugging on his shirt. "That was…"

"Unexpected."

"But good."

"Better than good."

Greg nodded in content agreement, feeling his shoulders pop as he rolled them. "Don’t know about you but I could do with a cigarette."

"I can think of far more pleasurable uses for your lips, Detective Inspector." The way Mycroft’s voice dropped as he practically purred Greg’s title made him shiver as all the blood in his body surged south.

"Oh yeah? Perhaps you should come here and show me, _Mr_ Holmes."

With a predatory grin, Mycroft crawled his way across the bed until he was kneeling in front of Greg. Reaching out Greg twisted his fingers through the chest hair on display, Mycroft hissed as Greg tugged on the hairs, leaning forward to capture his mouth—

The sudden knocking broke them apart almost comically. They stared at each other wide eyed.

A second more forceful knock had Mycroft scrambling off the bed.

"One moment." Mycroft called, trying to button his shirt and smooth down his hair at the same time. Greg had to stifle a laugh.

The knocking continued and Mycroft stumbled his way over to the door. He opened it a sliver, using his body to conceal Greg.

"Yes?"

"I need some cufflinks, these ones are hardly…" Sherlock stopped suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Mycroft. Mycroft shifted nervously.

"Who do you have in there?"

"No one." Mycroft wobbled, moving to counter Sherlock’s attempt to look over his shoulder.

"You’re an appalling liar, brother."

"Sherlock, there’s no one in here."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So if I were to do this—" Before Mycroft could react, Sherlock had somehow ducked around him.

Greg waved meekly as Sherlock stared, pulling the duvet up to cover his naked torso.

Sherlock spun around to face his brother.

"You did say I should find myself a goldfish." Mycroft said with a nod towards Greg.

"I didn’t mean one of mine!" Sherlock wailed before flying out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

"He never was very good at sharing." Mycroft mused.

"What did you mean by goldfish?"

"Unimportant. Now, where were we?"


End file.
